The New Nation
by Fullmetal Assassin
Summary: As it turns out, the nations aren't alone. There's another unknown to them, and although revealed soon, she brings with her a war that will stop at nothing for power, throwing the whole world into chaos. T for swearing.
1. Chapter 1

_**Oi. So this is an update on Decembe 25th, 2014. I am rewriting this bullcrap that I wrote two years ago. Go to the next chapter (unless you wanna compare how horrid the writing was back then). I'm deleting this chapter in one week, so yeah. Have fun~!**_

**Mrrp! Hi! Kris here! Kay, so, I don't own TMI or Hetalia! ENJOY!**

"Okay, here's the deal!" The hyperactive voice rang throughout the room. "I'm the hero!"

"Shut up, git. The only heroics you've ever accomplished is-"

"England, have you ever done any heroics yourself?

"Shut up, frog! You didn't do anything either, wanker."

The room exploded into chaos, most nations picking fights with their usual nemesis. It was only when America stopped mid-argument to catch his breath when he noticed something.

"Guys, do you sense anyone else?"

China shrugged nonchalantly. "It's probably Canada."

America gave his usual laugh. "That's true, bro. Now-"

A quiet voice spoke up from the far side of the conference table. "Actually, I'm right here," Canada said. For once, the nation wasn't entirely invisible.

America was still completely spooked, as the mysterious presence still lingered. "HOLY HELL! IT'S A GHOST!"

"You stupid twit! It's probably Russia again!"

From his seat, Russia looked up, still encased in his usual purple aura. "What was it I vas doing again?"

"Probably getting reven-"

"Actually, it was probably me." The voice was feminine and unfamiliar to any of the nations.

"OH GOD," America screamed, "SO IT _IS_ A GHOST!"

"No, I'm not a ghost. Usually, ghosts are very faint, and usually wailing about some poor deed they need to complete, whereas I don't wail. Unless someone tries to feed me English food."

France began snickering, until England threw a scone at his head.

"Where are you anyway, dammit?" Romano asked, searching around the room.

"Here." Something began taking shape by the grand double doors. It evolved from a thick black line to a girl's form in a matter of seconds. The air nearby shimmered, as if heat waves emanated from the ground.

And then she appeared. It was clearly a girl, who seemed no older than eighteen, with long golden hair, eyes like golden discs and thin, almost delicate features. A matrix of swirling black tattoos covered her skin, some dissapearing under the black gear she was clad in. She wore a pair of high boots, and on the sides, people could clearly see the deadly sharp knives sheathed there.

"I'm Idris," she said. "Nice to meet you."

* * *

><p>"My God, how long have you been there?" England peered at the new nation.<p>

"Not long," Idris sighed. "I've been on the trail of a demon for some time now. It's become tedious."

"You can have him," Romano said. He pointed at a particular Russian. "He's over there."

Russia didn't lose the same smile, but his voice did have a chilling ring to it. "You what to live, da?" The purple aura appeared once again, and he smiled serenely at the Italian.

"DAMMIT, I WAS JUST TRYING TO HELP HER!"

Idris gave a little smile, seeing how amusing this was, but shook her head. "As scary as he is, that's not the demon I'm talking about. I've been on the tail of an Oni demon for the past day. Bastard's been evading me for a while now."

England rose from his seat at the conference table, frowning. "What's that sound?"

America gave a laugh, although there was a nervous tinge to it. "Bro, what do ya mean? Is it that flying mint unicorn or something?"

"Shut up, git! I hear something."

Idris frowned as well. She pulled out a cell phone-like device from her boots and tapped at the controls. "There is something…"

A loud hiss sounded, and this time, everyone could hear the feral sound. It raised all hairs, some people visibly shuddering. Idris cast a glance at the ceiling with wide eyes.

"_MOVE." _She lunged, tackling Spain and knocking him three feet back. Thank god for roll-y chairs.

Moments later, the ceiling collapsed, and a misshapen _thing _fell from above, landing at the exact spot Spain had been sitting seconds ago. It was corpse white and huge, and the only thing most people saw was the razor sharp teeth, designed for tearing and shredding. It roared at the previously mentioned nation, who scrambled away, his eyes wide with fear. "_No bueno, no bueno…"_

The thing snarled something that might've been a laugh, and sprang.

"TOMATO BASTARD!" Romano, too far away, reached for his companion. Spain had closed his waiting for the unbelievable pain of teeth tearing through his flesh.

But it never happened.

Spain opened his eyes. Was he dead already?

No. Idris stood in front of him, her back to the nation. She faced the Oni demon, but she was still. And the demon was bleeding a black substance which hissed and burned the floor away. It began folding in on itself, again and again until nothing was left.

"Most people aren't able to see demons," Idris said, "But for some reason, you can all see. Does anyone deny what happened just now?"

Only silence answered her.

"_Mon dieu…." _France breathed.

"Vhat are you?" Germany inquired. "Nobody moves that fast…"

"I'm a Shadowhunter," Idris said without hesitation. "Nephilim. I am the home country for other Shadowhunters, between Germany and France."

Now France looked interested. "_Ma chere, _I—"

"A Shadowhunter," Idris went on, "…well, we hunt demons and Downworlders who've broken the Law."

"What is Downworlder?" Japan asked quietly.

"Fairy tales, to put it simply. Vampires and werewolves, the fey and warlocks."

"Warlocks?" America asked, his gaze flickering to England. The Brit shifted uncomfortably, and for once, he had nothing to say.

**Meh, I'm too lazy to go on. Whatever… But I actually wrote this in the car on the way to Buffalo… I consider this SKILLAGE.**

** Review?**


	2. Rewrite of Chapter 1

**Enjoy~**

"Okay, here's the deal!" The hyperactive voice rang throughout the room. "I'm the hero!"

"Shut up, git. The only heroics you've ever accomplished is-"

"England, have you ever done any heroics yourself?

"Shut up, frog! You didn't do anything either, wanker."

"I still have my inhabitants being attacked..."

The room exploded into chaos, drowning out the last comment of concern, most nations picking fights with their usual nemesis. As per usual.

It was only when America stopped mid-argument to catch his breath when he noticed something, a prickling feeling on the back of his neck that gave the general impression that he was being watched.

No, that they were _all _being watched.

His voice dropped several decibels, to an almost uncharacteristic whisper. "Guys, do you sense anyone else?"

China shrugged nonchalantly. "It's probably Canada."

America gave his usual laugh, but the unnerving feeling never left him. "That's true, bro. Now-"

A quiet voice spoke up from the far side of the conference table. "Actually, I'm right here," Canada said. For once, the nation wasn't entirely invisible, but more so on the barely visible end of the spectrum. Still, America could feel an unacknowledged presence in the nearby vicinity.

America was still completely spooked, as the feeling still lingered. "HOLY HELL! IT'S A GHOST!"

"You stupid twit! It's probably Russia again!"

From his seat, Russia looked up, still encased in his usual purple aura. "What was it I was doing again?"

"Probably getting reven-"

"Actually, it was probably me." The voice was feminine and unfamiliar to any of the nations.

"OH GOD," America screamed, "SO IT _IS_ A GHOST!"

"No, I'm not a ghost. Usually, ghosts are very faint, and usually wailing about some rather impossible and nondescript deed they need to complete, whereas I don't wail." She paused for a moment, almost thoughtfully. "Well, unless someone tries to feed me English food."

France began snickering, until England threw a mysteriously acquired scone at his head.

"Where are you anyway, dammit?" Romano asked, searching around the room.

"Here." Something began taking shape by the grand double doors. At first, the air shimmered, like heat waves coming off the pavement. It evolved from a thick black line to a slender form in a matter of seconds.

And then she appeared. It was clearly a girl, who seemed no older than eighteen—which of course, meant nothing, given China was turning three thousand, six hundred and sixty seven years old and still appeared to be in his twenties— with long golden hair, eyes like golden discs and thin, almost delicate features. _Sharp _features. Her skin resembled white marble, like a statue of an old patron warrior that was looked upon in times of great need. A matrix of swirling black tattoos covered her skin, some disappearing under the thick and flexible black gear she was clad in. She wore a pair of high boots, and on the many sheathes decorating her legs, the nations had little difficulty seeing the wicked sharp knives sheathed.

"My name is Idris," she declared. "Land of the Shadowhunters. Nice to meet you."

"My God, how long have you been here?" England peered at the new nation.

"Not long," Idris sighed. "I've been on the trail of a demon for some time now. It's become dull."

"You can have him," Romano said. He pointed at a particular Russian. "He's over there."

Russia didn't lose the same smile, but his voice did have a chilling ring to it. "You what to live, da?" The purple aura appeared once again, and he smiled serenely at the Italian.

"DAMMIT, I WAS JUST TRYING TO HELP HER!"

Idris stared at Russia for a long time, before turning away. "No, but it seems one of you have been dabbling in magic, the stuff for warlocks. Typically, magic would be near impossible for a human to accomplish at the level of a warlock, but..." she swept her eyes across the room, looking at each country indiscriminately, "it seems no one here is quite human."

Her golden eyes focused, and she grinned with sharp teeth. "Then again, neither am I, so I suppose it's fair game." She gazed at Romano, suddenly serious. "Believe me, there are _far_ worse things to fear then him," she said almost ominously, nodding at Russia.

There was something of a primal fear that whispered of strange things in Romano's mind, and bewilderment of Russia's own thoughts. What on earth was this girl talking about.

France raised an eyebrow and tried for a smile, despite his uneasiness of the girl's sudden appearance. "Ah, _ma belle madamoiselle_, you said you were the country of the Shadow'unters. _S'il te plaîs, _tell us what you speak of."

Eyes twinkling with her own knowledge of the arcane, she said, "My inhabitants are the guardians of the mundanes, the children of the angel Raziel. My people and I are the hunters of the demons that invade this world. The police of the supernatural, I suppose. We regulate Downworlders, which are basically the beings of myth you were told were nothing more than a fairy tale. There's the Children of the Night, which you would call vampires. There's the Moon's Children, which are werewolves; lycanthropes. The Fair Folk are the oldest of beings—faeries, which branch off into different subcategories; nixies, sprites, pixies... etcetera. And then there's Lilith's Children, the warlocks." At this, England stiffened almost imperceptably, the word _warlocks _resonating with an almost proud but somehow misplaced pride and recognition.

With the cat-like smile returning, she winked impishly. "Right. I've been hunting an _Oni _daemon for the past few weeks now. It seems to have been terrorizing this general area, and it might be more than one. They travel in packs."

Japan, startled at the mention of his own language's term of _demon_, looked up at her, yet somehow managed to maintain the stoic composture he was so well known for.

Idris didn't miss Japan's nor England's reactions, but said nothing.

"Do they attack people, señorita?" Idris's gaze brushed over the rest of the nations, finally finding Spain in his respective spot.

"Attack, eat, brutally torture, the worst you can imagine. Some demons do worse." Her eyes glittered. "I'm assuming it was _you _who voiced their concern about humans being attacked earlier." Her voice went no more than a couple degrees colder when she said, "which most of you either didn't hear or ignored."

Many averted their eyes, in shame or general disgust for themselves.

"Either way, I can tell you this; my target has come here." Idris eyed her surroundings, her slender fingers subconsciously reaching towards her multitude of knives and daggers. "Demons have their way of sensing large masses of power. It's easy for them. They can practically _smell_ the magic around this area. That's why I came. Forgive me," she said, her voice impassive but her face nearing mischievous, "but I weakened the wards to attract them here. I intend to end this hunt today."

No one said anything. Either they were all in shock, digesting all of this new information, or they were searching wildly around the room and trying to determine their next course of action. Sure, they were used to threats—but those threats were human and on a plane of existence that was easy to understand. But demons?

As if on cue, England heard a disturbingly familiar noise. It was a mix between roaring and hissing, spitting and inhuman guttural noises. And then the ceiling burst.

* * *

><p>Surprisingly, there were few screams. Some were so shocked that their throats seemed to close and choke up. Amidst the chaotic cacophony, Romano called out, "<em>TOMATO BASTARD."<em>

A hulking shape stood over Spain, leering at his prone form. The country was unconscious, the impact of the demon landing on him jarring him into darkness. It was green, slightly larger than the average human, scaly and molded skin hanging off its meaty frame. Stubby horns protruded from its temples, and where it's eyes should have been... Empty sockets remained, bloody, as if its eyes had been torn out no more than minutes ago. Its gaping mouth bared its needle-like teeth, perfect for piercing and tearing and shredding.

The second thing that happened; Idris vanished.

Or so they thought.

She appeared behind the demon, it whirled, revealing long, dagger-like claws. But Idris was faster. She plunged her glassy blade into the demon's hide, severing its spine and piercing the heart.

It screamed, a horrible high pitched noise that seemed to be effectively shattering their minds. Black fluid spilled from its wounds, burning the carpeted floor when it made contact. The same fluid dripped onto Spain's back, yet he never awoke. Another hiss sounded behind Idris.

Like a dancer moving through with her next step, she whirled and planted her foot, swinging herself around and decapitating the demon's companion, in a single arc. It disapeared without a trace, leaving no evidence of the fight that had taken no more than a minute, excluding the ruined carpet and the festering flesh of Spain's back.

* * *

><p><strong>Oh, I am an asshole. I just changed that shit on you guys. Anyway, I hope you guys forgive me for not updating... I'm sorry. But I'm back. I wanted to post this on Christmas for you guys, so yeah. Thanks you all so much for yelling at me to continue. I'll likely update this soon, since there's a cliffhanger. It's a short chapter, but I wrote all of this on my phone. So yeah. I hope you all had a good Christmas!<br>**


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